


Muse

by the_one_that_fell



Series: OMGCP Rare Pair Hell [12]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Poetry, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 23:26:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11724780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_one_that_fell/pseuds/the_one_that_fell
Summary: Nursey needs a muse for his writing assignment; he doesn't expect to find more than that in Bitty.





	Muse

**Author's Note:**

> An AU where Jack's classmates pointed out how often Shitty was in his photos and not Bitty. Kiss never happened. Implied Jack/Shitty. 
> 
> Have had this in my drafts FOREVER. So happy to have it done and posted. I love this ship a lot.
> 
> Reblog on [tumblr.](http://alphacrone.tumblr.com/post/163871109967/fire-in-his-heart-fire-in-his-eyes-fire-on-his)

_Fire in his heart, fire in his eyes_

_Fire on his head and in th_ _e fist_

_Coming straight for my face_

Nursey sighed loudly and slumped against the table. When no one reacted, he added in a little groan.

“Shut up, Nurse,” Dex said, not looking up from his laptop. “You're the one who put off the assignment for so long.”

“Writing is _hard,”_ Nursey whined, rubbing at his eyes. “Poetry is _hard_. And my prof is so critical, she almost made a kid cry last week when she told him that poems comparing women to flowers are so overdone that even Shakespeare wouldn't want to read them anymore.”

“Boo hoo,” Dex deadpanned, still not looking at Nursey. “I'm already letting you observe me for the sake of _poetry_. Listening to you bitch and moan about it wasn't part of the deal.”

Before Nursey could argue, Bitty sashayed over and set down a large slice of cherry pie by Dex’s elbow. “Dex, sweetheart, eat some pie and do your work. You get mean when you're stressed.”

Dex rolled his eyes but grinned up at Bitty. “I'm always mean, Bits. Thank you for the pie.”

Bitty patted his shoulder then leaned over to assess Nursey. “You want some pie, hun?”

“Is there a muse hidden under that crust?” Nursey asked. He _possibly_ tended towards histrionics when he was running on three hours of sleep and a disgusting cocktail of energy drinks from Ransom’s stash. “If not, no thank you.”

Bitty made a vaguely distressed noise. “S’not like you to turn down baked goods. What's the assignment? Must be a real toughie, I've never seen you so…”

“Unchill?” Dex asked, smirking. If he wasn't _dying,_ Nursey might've chucked his Norton anthology at the fucker’s head.

Instead, he sighed again and said, “I'm supposed to write a collection of poems about someone I know. The assignment was to watch said person and draw from both your visual observations and your intrinsic emotional response to their presence. I'm with Poindexter a lot and he pisses me off 90% of the time so I figured I'd get some good shit from using him as my person.”

Bitty moved to better read the scribbled words in Nursey’s Moleskine. His hand ghosted across the back of Nursey’s neck, then settled between his shoulder blades, solid and warm through the fabric of Nursey’s Henley.

“Lotsa fire goin’ on, huh?” Bitty asked with a wry grin. Dex audibly scoffed, abandoning his computer for the slice of pie Bitty had brought him.

Nursey couldn't help but smile back at Bitty. _Not_ smiling at Bitty was like kicking a puppy or telling Chowder that the Sharks were a half-rate team. Only evil people didn't smile at Bitty. “The next line was gonna be about setting him on fire. Literally.”

“Fgck ghff-” Dex mumbled around a large bite of pie. Bitty laughed, the sound like wind chimes rustled by a warm, summer breeze just after dawn as the birds were beginning to sing-

_Oh._

“Bitty!” Nursey cried, sitting up straight. The motion sent several books to the floor and Dex’s laptop teetered dangerously close to the table’s edge. Bitty looked startled beyond belief, hand over his heart, face pale and frozen. “Bitty, _you_ can be my person!”

Dex choked a little on his pie. Bitty didn't look any less taken aback, but color was returning to his face at a very rapid rate.

“Oh, um, sure?” Bitty hurried over to slap Dex on the back as he coughed and hacked. “But- and _gosh_ , don't take this the wrong way - why _me?_ How am I any better than Mr. Fire over here?”

“Well, for starters,” Nursey said, leaning over to pull Dex’s laptop further away from the edge of the table. “I don't want to set _you_ on fire.”

Though still trying to clear his throat, Dex managed to glare at him. Bitty rubbed soothing circles in Dex’s back and Nursey found he longed to switch places with Dex, just to feel those thin, strong fingers kneading his skin the way they kneaded dough, slick with cooking oil and egg whites and-

“But also,” he continued quickly, tearing his eyes from Bitty’s hands. “The poems are due tomorrow, no one else is around the Haus tonight, and I feel way more inspired by _you_ than by _William_ tonight.”

 

* * *

 

 

_my grandmother sang of apple pie the_

_night they called the priest._

_the (our?) father dipped her hands in oil but_

_how could it be as holy as the tang of_

_sugared fruit (eve’s fruit) under her tongue?_

 

_they tell me she burned her fingers on_

_ovenhot metal every week (day? I cannot_

_recall now) when she lived. the boy in my_

_kitchen has burns across his arms (i do not_

_see them but they are_

_there) and slips sugared fruit between my_

_lips._

 

_my grandmother’s house held a_

_husband, two children, and a (happy?)_

_wife-mother-eve’s-daughter, but_

_i did not know family until i_

_tasted (felt)(loved) apple slices tucked_

_beneath a crust (tongue) by_

_holy-oil-flour-sugared fingers_

 

_-d. m. nurse_

 

“The composition is sloppy,” Professor Ngo said, and Nursey bit his tongue. The hardest part of workshops was the fact that he wasn't allowed to speak, couldn't explain or defend his work. It was for his own personal growth as a writer, sure, but creative writing majors could be _brutal_. “I like the direction you were going with the religious imagery, though the family line was very heavy handed.”

“It was an interesting choice to bring in such sexual imagery,” Kayla said, circling something on the print-out of his poems. “Kinda risky move when half the thing is about your grandmother, but I think it worked nicely.”

To her right, Nathaniel nodded. “I like the association between your grandmother and Eve - maybe, like, a forbidden sexuality in a repressed era? And then using the same imagery to describe your boyfriend, y’know, a different kind of ‘forbidden’ sexuality in a modern e-”

“Wait, _what?”_ Nursey said, then clapped a hand over his mouth. Silently, Professor Ngo made a red mark on her paper, taking one point of his grade for speaking during the critique. _Dammit_.

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow at Nursey. “Um, like I was saying, comparing your boyfriend-”

“He's not!” _God dammit._ Nursey clapped both hands over his mouth, nearly glaring the Professor as she took another point off.

“Oh, uh.” Nathaniel looked helplessly at Kayla, who shrugged. “Could've fooled me.”

“The poem is intensely passionate,” Professor Ngo said, and Nursey was almost certain she was _smirking_ at him. “The subject is clearly framed in an important and, frankly, sexual light. It doesn't matter if he's a boyfriend, an ex, a close friend, a hated enemy - the subject clearly represents a genuine sense of family outside of blood ties.”

“I think there's also a sense of longing, there,” Pippa said, flashing a truly sycophantic smile at Professor Ngo. “To make a family with the subject, the way the grandmother had a family.”

“I don't see that interpretation,” Professor Ngo said and Nursey longed for the earth to open up and swallow him whole. “Would you care to elaborate where you see that?”

It took everything Nursey had not to groan and slam his head down onto the desk repeatedly.

 

* * *

 

 

Nursey didn't want to say the kegster was being thrown _for_ him, but he would admit to very casually mentioning to Ransom and Holster that he _absolutely needed to get fucking smashed tonight._ It wasn't his fault if the captains were easily persuaded.

Dex was on Nursey Patrol, as he often was, which meant that Nursey would have very little actual supervision. With a pointed look, Dex pushed up one of Nursey’s sleeves and wrote, in thick, black Sharpie, “IF LOST OR DYING, CALL DEX,” followed by his phone number. Nursey wanted to be pissed off about it, but this tactic probably saved him from freezing to death in a snowbank last year so he kept his mouth shut.

“If you wanna go home with someone,” Dex said in a bored tone. “Come to me first so I can make sure you're not too drunk. If you wanna go back to your dorm, tell me before you leave or else I'll send Holster after you. Don't go near the kitchen, don’t try to dance on anything elevated, and _try_ to drink some water. Got it?”

“Yes, Mom,” Nursey said, rolling his eyes.

“Don't take that tone with me,” Dex said, capping his Sharpie and shoving it into his pocket. “You have no right to complain after the Slip n’ Slide incident.”

“That was _one time_ ,” Nursey muttered, but Dex didn't pay him any attention.

“Come on, we’re already late,” Dex said, grabbing Nursey’s jacket and ushering him out of the door. “Jack’s gonna be there and I wanna talk to him before he disappears.”

“He won't disappear if Shitty’s there,” Nursey said, letting Dex herd him towards the Haus. He hadn't realized it until he'd seen Dex help Bitty in the kitchen, but the dude was _such_ a mother hen. “They're, like, super tight.”

Dex waggled his eyebrows. “Given how often Shitty was naked in Jack’s bed last year, I'd say they're more than _tight_.”

Nursey hummed as he considered the possibility. “You think? Zimmermann kinda reeks of Macho Straight Guy.”

A year ago, Nursey never would've expected to have this conversation with Dex. But they'd both grown a lot since then; nobody was their best freshman year. “I mean, I don't know if they've done anything about it, but there's, like, an annoying amount of sexual tension between them. Plus, like, could you imagine Jack Zimmermann cuddling with _anyone_ else, man or woman, other than Shitty? Like, _maybe_ Bits. _Maybe.”_

An unsettling jealousy pooled in Nursey’s gut. “Bitty? You think?”

Dex shrugged. “You'd have to be blind not to have seen his crush on Jack last semester. But I think he's gotten over it. He and Jack are bro-ier than Holster and Ransom.”

“Huh.” Nursey gave Dex an appraising look. “How do you _know_ all this stuff?”

“Are you serious, Nurse?” Dex scoffed. “Dude, I pay attention. _You’re_ the _artiste_. Aren’t you supposed to be more in touch with human emotions than a lowly STEM nerd like myself?”

“Shut up,” Nursey mumbled, jostling Dex with his shoulder. “So, Bitty had a crush on Jack?”

The knowing, amused smirk on Dex’s face was _not_ appreciated. “Yeah. Why’re you so interested?”

“No reason,” Nursey said quickly. He and Dex had come a long way but they weren’t at _that_ level of friendship yet.

Dex looked unconvinced. “Sure,” he said lightly. “My friend, Raquel, is in your workshop this semester. She had some interesting things to say about your poems.” Nursey’s blood ran cold. “She thinks it’s sweet you chose your _boyfriend_ as your subject.”

“I will literally pay you to shut up,” Nursey said, face burning in the cool night. They stood outside the Haus, where the music was loud enough to shake the porch dangerously. “Please, Dex.”

“Okay, okay,” Dex said quickly, smirk fading. “But, like, I’m just saying- you should go for it.”

“Okay,” Nursey mumbled, hunching in on himself a bit. “Got it.”

Dex rolled his eyes and jerked his chin up at the Haus. “I’m gonna go find Jack. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Don’t do anything Shitty _would_ do. Go flirt pathetically with Bits. Drink water.”

Before Nursey could protest, Dex was jogging up the porch steps. “Fine,” he huffed and quickly followed.

When he entered the Haus, Nursey immediately found Dex talking to Shitty. A glance across the crowded room, and he found Jack preoccupied...dancing?

Nursey hadn’t once seen Jack Zimmermann dance in the year they’d known each other. But when Jack shifted and revealed Bitty dancing alongside him, it suddenly made a lot more sense.

A sinking feeling in his gut, Nursey scurried to kitchen where Ransom and Holster had laid out their typical smorgasbord of bottom-shelf liquors and store-brand mixers. He made himself a cup of Mr. Popper and Pinnacle (whipped cream flavor, what the _fuck_?) and took several quick and inadvisable gulps before returning to the living room.

Bitty had disappeared somehwere and Dex was still talking with Shitty, so Jack now leaned against the wall awkwardly, watching the captains usher Chowder to the keg for his congratulatory shut-out kegstand. Nursey approached him after another swig of his drink, trying to quell the weird emotion bubbling in his chest.

“Hey, Nurse,” Jack said, barely loud enough to be heard over the music. “You alright?”

“Hmm?” Crap, Nursey’s _emotions_ must’ve been showing if _Jack_ could sense something was off. “Oh, ha, yeah. Just had a weird workshop experience I’m trying to banish away with booze and dancing.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, face impassive. “Oh? You know, I always found peer critique to be...enlightening.”

“That’s a word for it,” Nursey mumbled into his cup. He couldn’t help, however, to notice Jack’s eyes flickering to Shitty, soft and tender. Maybe...maybe Jack had a point.

“Listen to your classmates,” Jack said clapping Nursey on the shoulder, pushing himself off the wall. “Sometimes it takes an outside perspective to learn something new about yourself.”

“O...kay,” Nursey said lamely as Jack walked off to wrap an arm around Shitty’s shoulders. It was casual, platonic, _bro-y_ , but Nursey didn’t miss the soft smile on Jack’s face or the way Shitty leaned into the embrace. Dex, who had now launched into a conversation with Jack, also seemed to notice, and shot Nursey a smug look when Jack wasn’t looking.

“So, how’d the poems go?”

Nursey looked up to see Bitty standing there, a vision in his red tank top and jean shorts. His cheeks were flushed from dancing, his mouth stained red from the cranberry mixer in the kitchen.

Nursey sighed, ignoring the tightening feeling in his abdomen. “Well, apparently my work is sexual, even when I’m talking about my grandmother, so I’m drinking to forget everything they said in the workshop.”

Bitty laughed and pouted in sympathy. “I’m sorry. But why were you writing about your grandma? I thought _I_ was your muse.” He leaned in and fluttered his eyelashes dramatically. Nursey snorted and shoved lightly at his shoulder.

“I was relating the way _you_ cook out of love to the way she cooked out of a sense of duty,” Nursey said quickly, feeling awkward. He hated discussing his poetry, especially with people whose opinions mattered to him. “It was a dumb idea, but I put the poems off so long…”

“I think it sounds nice,” Bitty said, leaning in. Nursey could feel the warmth of his body, smell the cranberry juice on his breath. He wanted to open up his chest and envelope Bitty whole, have him inside-

Nursey took a long drink to combat the direction his mind was taking him.

“Better than all the fire metaphors I had going on with Dex,” Nursey said with a sigh. “He just didn’t...spark my imagination the way you do.”

Bitty looked down at his shoes, a small, pleased smile on his face. “That’s...sweet, I think.”

“No,” Nursey said, something clicking in the back of his mind. “It’s inevitable.”

With a deep breath, like he was jumping off a diving board into deep, cold water, Nursey surged down and captured Bitty’s mouth in a kiss.

Bitty froze for a second, stunned, then wrapped his arms around Nursey’s neck and pulled them together, standing on his toes to shorten the distance.

Nursey’s hands itched to write as Bitty deepened the kiss. He wanted to scribble out paragraphs about the cherry-red hue of Bitty’s lips, the way he tasted like sunlight, the way Nursey felt like coins had fallen from his eyes in the light of this new discovery-

But then Bitty pulled back and smiled up at him, radiant, and every metaphor and adjective and long, run-on sentence faded away. Nursey’s mind quieted as it zeroed in on the crinkles of Bitty’s large, warm eyes, the hopeful way he looked at Nursey.

“Nothing to say?” Bitty chirped, leaning close so Nursey could hear him over the music. “What happened to all your words, Mr. Lit Major?”

Nursey turned his head slightly to ghost his lips over Bitty’s ear. “How can I speak when you take my breath away?”

Bitty laughed, light and clear, and gently fisted Nursey’s shirt in his hands. “Charmer,” he said. “I guess we’ll have to occupy your mouth in other ways.”

Nursey brushed his fingers over Bitty’s brow, the ridge of his cheek, the dimples that formed when he smiled. Freckles marched up the bridge of his nose in scattered form, and the valleys of his collar bone invited Nursey to taste the salt of his skin there. He was a living masterpiece, Nursey decided, and the way his eyes followed Nursey’s every movement made it clear the feeling was mutual.

He took Bitty’s hand, heart fluttering as Bitty’s eyes lit up, and let himself be pulled from the room and toward the stairs. Bitty looked back over his shoulder as they ascended, and Nursey tightened his grip; he’d found his muse in this beautiful, kind man and there was no way he’d ever let go.

**Author's Note:**

> Like reading stuff written by me on occasion? Check out my free online serialized novel,[ The Discourt Knife. ](http://thediscourtknife.tumblr.com/) Thanks!


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